


Safer together (happier with you)

by Almaaz



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hinata Shouyou is Sunshine, Hurt Hinata Shouyou, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Love, M/M, One Shot, One-Sided Relationship, Pining, Unrequited Love, Whump, based on ReychieCakes' story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28451103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Almaaz/pseuds/Almaaz
Summary: Hinata Shōyō has so much love to give, thankfully, this time, there's someone there to catch it.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma, Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu, Hinata Shouyou/Oikawa Tooru, Hinata Shouyou/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 95





	Safer together (happier with you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ReychieCakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReychieCakes/gifts).
  * Inspired by [alone is safer than with you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28333428) by [ReychieCakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReychieCakes/pseuds/ReychieCakes). 



> So this was inspired by ReychieCakes' awesome but super sad story, [alone is safer than with you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28333428), that I couldn't leave alone because I needed Shōyō to have a happy ending.

Thiago Ribeira always thought of himself as a pretty… robust, let’s say, for a lack of better term, person. 

He’s a generally cheerful guy, and makes a conscious effort to not take life too seriously. When his parents told him, at 14, that they were moving away from the beaches of Rio to those of Los Angeles, he accepted it with a smile, understanding that their work and their lives were just moving in that direction.

He said goodbye to people he’s known for a decade with some sadness but wished that they would continue happily with their own lives. They packed their bags. They left.

Walking into the halls of his new school he quickly made friends, as was easy to do in an institution where you saw the same people every day and was happy with his new surroundings. English was hard, but it shared enough similarities with Portuguese that it wasn’t too bad. At 15, He joined the varsity sports teams to spend time with his friends and maybe boost his college applications. 

He didn’t expect to be as good at volleyball as he turned out to be. However, he took everything in stride. He liked the sport well enough; his parents were supportive and that was that. The more he grew and the more tournaments he played, it became clearer and clearer that he could go on the professional track.

When he got his first sponsorship offer at 18, after winning gold in the Varsity Championship finals, Thiago sat down with his parents about pursuing the sport vocationally. They gave him the go ahead, but also asked him to try and find a way to get some college credit as a fallback. 

He agreed and five years later, at 22, he finds himself back on the beaches of Brazil and a year later, on a world class team; ASAS São Paolo stretching across his chest. 

This is where his world shifted on its axis. 

_Bright_. Was his first thought. _Pretty_ was his second. 

But nothing could compare to how his chest squeezed then lifted and how his heart ripped away to place itself in those tiny hands when Hinata Shōyō soared into the sky. 

It hit Thiago right then that, _Oh. So this is what life is about._

This feeling is what music is written about and art was created to capture. This feeling was what created tears and smiles and laughter and everything in between. This feeling, no this _person_ who he could spend the rest of his life chasing after.

When he lands, and turns around to direct a smile that towards him, Thiago thinks _fuck it_ and walks up to stand in front of him. 

“Let me set for you!” He says, watching as those previously open eyes shutter a little bit. Wary now. 

Thiago doesn’t really understand why. But it’s ok. He’ll get there, and even if he doesn’t, he’ll be happy having tried. (He’d be happy just being beside this person for the rest of his life.)

He breathes “Let me set for you and I promise that I will always catch you.” 

Tufts of orange hair flutter as he looks up at him, eyes glassy and frightened for the barest of a second before closing, replaced by induced friendly happiness. 

No. That’s not right. Thiago wanted the barest version of this beautiful person, so much feeling and so much love should never be as pushed down as it was. 

“Please.” His lungs froze in time, filled with hope. _Show it to me. Give it to me._

He gets a slow nod before the small, holy crap how did he not realize how small this person was, spiker runs towards the other side of the net.

Taking a ball and propping it beneath his arm, he looks at the waiting figure looking up at him even from that distance. 

“Can you jump the highest that you can?” He asks, voice the kindest that he can possibly make it. The way his mother talked to their neighbor’s skittish tabby.

He watches raptly as that chest undulates before the muscles in those shoulders flex. And then- a step is taken, monumentally destructive, tendons in those thighs and calves rippling to _jump_. Thiago has never seen anything like this before in his life. The perfect arch. There isn’t anything in this world that has ever or will ever exhilarate him as this does. Nothing can compare because _oh,_ how could anything ever be placed beside something so shattering.

He lands soundly, perfectly. 

Here’s the thing. Thiago doesn’t have a sports ego. He doesn’t love his own volleyball and he’s content with the natural rate at which he improves. It’s been easy on his mental health and lets him play with a lot of different players. He’s never worried if he was going to be invited to the big leagues or an U19 or U23 competition. Living by gathering simple contentment from the day to day has been his life for as long as he can remember. 

He feels a bit regretful of that now. Maybe if he had that competitive spirit or had developed that confidence, he’d be the setter a player like the one in front of him deserves. 

But. He has to keep the promise he just made. Or else spend the rest of his life trying. 

_I just have to give myself up more than usual._

Thiago inhales, exhales and nods at his new teammate. 

“I want you to hit this however you want” 

Without further ado, he throws up the ball with his right hand then lets it fall far lower than a good toss would want and all the way down to his nose.

He sends over the ugliest set in the world. The last time he did this was in his first week of volleyball where he had been convinced that this was the only way to toss a ball quickly. The set is more like a basketball chest pass in its journey, all power and speed. No elegance. He would never be congratulated on a toss like this that even a week-long player could master. 

It still lands true to its target and at the correct height. It spikes with a spin. Better yet, it curves, skewing sideways to the right before boomeranging to the opposite side of the court. It’s elongated enough to bounce off train, to the left, at a different angle than it met the floor. 

It’s only an inch out of bounds. 

As he thought. 

Any setter can toss like that. But only one spiker could hit it like that. 

Mouth turning up, he smiles at the widened eyes and glow that seems to surround the presence in front of him. Maybe Thiago isn’t a superstar setter. But he is a setter that doesn’t mind being called a bad player if it allows a spiker like this to shine. 

“Can you please tell me your name?” He asks, wonder still blooming in his chest. 

The face in front of him flushes, eyes glistening with tears and love and embarrassment “Oh, uhm” a hand comes up to rest on that thin neck. “It’s Shōyō. You can call me Shōyō.”

“I’m Thiago. You can call me whatever. I don’t mind.” He doesn’t love volleyball on its own. But he can love Shōyō’s.

Thiago is 23 years old when his heart truly beats for the first time and the framerate of his life multiplies into a level of motion he never thought possible.

* * *

The first time he meets someone who Shōyō loved, was during a South American continental tournament. 

At that point, he was still trying to get the spiker to open his heart to him, making steady progress day by day. Thiago had figured out that some past experiences were probably what dimmed the light that he’s been trying to bring back.

He sees everything he’s been trying to achieve in those eyes unravel as a Japanese-Argentinian player by the name of Oikawa Tōru drapes himself over that tiny body. As if it was a sure thing. As if _Shōyō_ was a sure thing. 

That is the first time Thiago felt fury.

He makes sure to do everything in his power to let Shōyō shine brighter than Arcturus on that stage. 

He wants that lofty arrogance to _see_ and _compare_ and feel _guilty_ at what he thoughtlessly destroyed in his selfish need for validation.

They win that series 2-0. 

That night he holds Shōyō until a semblance of stability returns to that slight frame. Until he can feel the hurt himself, hoping that it takes away some of his burden. 

The next morning, he gets a kiss on the cheek and a blooming smile with rosy cheeks that takes his breath away.

Thiago _falls_ , all over again.

(did he ever stop?)

* * *

The next time, he met people Shōyō loved, he meets two of them at the same time. 

It’s a year and a half later and they’d both moved to the US where Shōyō had wanted to go and after playing on a few teams had decided to apply for citizenship. 

_“It’s the birthplace of volleyball”_ he had exclaimed joyfully as Thiago tugged softly on the ends of orange strands _“Isn’t that the coolest thing?”_

They end up on the roster for the national team at the Olympics and that’s where he meets them. 

Miya Atsumu and Kageyama Tobio. Setters brimming with so much natural talent that Thiago cannot find it in himself to be surprised in any way at the level of ego they have to match it. 

What he does find surprising is the way they cajole and touch and direct Shōyō, almost micromanaging him and breaking down his walls thoroughly just to get him to spike their sets. 

They experiment with tosses they obviously haven’t been successful with so far and force Shōyō to play to their tune. 

This is a different Shōyō than he’s seen before. A Shōyō that pushes himself to compete against these two, a spiker who destroys himself to meet them at their level. A Shōyō that says “That was a great toss, Atsumu-san” or “You’re still as talented as ever, Kageyama” instead of “Thank you, Thiago. That was everything I could’ve asked for.” A Shōyō that pulls back from high fives and seems so unbearably frustrated instead of reaching out to play with the hem of Thiago’s jersey. 

The next day, right before the Japan match, he sits down on a bench and pulls the smaller frame down to rest their foreheads together. Their eyes meet and he has to resist from getting lost among their warmth. 

“Our team loves you. I love you. No matter who is on the other side, you just need to play your way.” Thiago smiles, feeling the ends of his eyes crinkle and seeing the shining pupils glisten down at him. “In my opinion, Shōyō has the most beautiful volleyball in the world. Got it?”

He gets such a radiant smile in return that he’ll probably need a whole week to come off the high. 

“Got it.”

Their teammates, all diverse and an amalgamation of unique stories and talents all gather around for their pre-game ritual. 

Having seen Shōyō get so shaken up at their opponents, a glint enters their captain’s eye. Normally, coach gives a speech and they count down from 3 with an enthusiastic ‘Let’s go!’ What they’re gonna do now is purely to cheer up their shortest player and opposite hitter because he’s never been able to stop laughing at anything that reminds him of _the incident_ \- where they saw a guy run through an empty street at 3am in only stars and stripes underwear yelling at the top of his lungs. 

“God why do I deal with y’all” coach Carson mutters. 

Captain Rodriguez just grins, they hands-in. A collective inhale is taken, brown eyes swivel around at his teammates in confusion.

“U-S-A!  
U-S-A!  
WALMART, TARGET, CVS!”

Shōyō is now laughing so hard, tears are gathering at his eyes. Everyone’s grinning now, poking at each other and making inside jokes. 

Coach just rolls his eyes and kicks their butts towards the court. 

The Shōyō that plays here and now is a far cry from the one Thiago saw for the first time yesterday. 

_Look at him_ he can’t help but think, _Look at him and see what you missed, what you destroyed when you took a person like this for granted._

They may be better setters than Thiago is, but he’s sure that they have never seen Shōyō rise to the heights that he does with him. 

_You missed this_ he wants to say, when his spiker hits their, now signature, curveball _This is a whole new world of volleyball that our Shōyō can create. The Shōyō you broke to your whims was never what he was meant to be._

They advance to finals with a 3-0 victory. 

“You under-rotated that last spike, I’m so disappointed!” Anatoli says while throwing all 5’ 8 of their teammate into the air. It’s almost comical since the dude himself is 6’ 4.

When they make to the locker rooms, Thiago gets pulled aside. A small hand threads through his own. 

“I think I’m done.” he starts, voice breathless and everything beautiful; the expression on his face nestling itself perfectly into Thiago’s ribcage. “I trust you.”

He can’t help but hug him and spin him around, holding him up to prop him on his chest. Thighs wrapping around his upper torso.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” He says, gently rubbing a thumb across Thiago’s cheek, as if _he’s_ something precious, something inexplicably valuable.

(god he’s getting there. he could never even hope- but he’s getting there)

* * *

The last of Shōyō’s loves he meets is his first. 

It’s at a high school reunion back in Japan and they’ve basically booked out a restaurant. 

Kozume Kenma, is his name. Shōyō’s breath catches when he first spots those feline-like features as they sit in front of him. 

Thiago will be the first to say how far they’ve gotten, but a first love is always tricky. Especially one like this one who seems to still hold a certain intensity of feeling towards Shōyō. 

_“I just always want to talk to him, kind of how I always want to talk to you”_ he remembers Shōyō recounting those words to Thiago underneath the cusp of light at dusk.

When the night stretches on and they talk for hours and hours. He feels jealousy, something he had promised himself not to impose onto his lover and he can’t help but be scared of being left behind. 

His hands are animated as he tells a story, language rolling fluidly over his mother tongue and then, when he laughs freely, head thrown back Thiago snaps.

He snakes a hand around Shōyō’s waist and feels the back arch under his touch and the heat bleed into his skin. 

Suddenly it feels like every pore in that body, every atom that makes up Hinata Shōyō turns towards him. Eyes sparkle with a pure and visceral devotion, a love that cannot be contained within a single universe. He sees as those brown depths forget everything around them, focussing only on him in their full vulnerable intensity. _Catch me. I’m yours._ they seem to say. _Nothing in this world is as important to me as you_ they seem to declare.

_You’re safer with me than anywhere else._

Thiago is 28 when he realizes what happiness is. 

(Hint: it’s Hinata Shōyō)

* * *

Later that month, Shōyō proposes. 

Thiago will never admit how much he bawled.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> It's rushed and kinda bad but...


End file.
